


Cowardice

by Musketball1



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Gen, d'Artagnan Angst, d'Artagnan Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27543106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musketball1/pseuds/Musketball1
Summary: The battlefield is not the place for everyone.  War is something not suited for all men.  Is D’Artagnan one of them?Set between the end of season two and the beginning of season three.
Comments: 29
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

Jean Couture was a French tailor. He truly had no idea what he was doing in this war.

Early on, somehow his meek, tentative manner attracted the attentions of some of his fellow soldiers- not in a good way- in that they derided him his bearing. Even though he was older than many of the other soldiers, that didn’t prevent them from showing their scorn.

“I’m a tailor, not a soldier,” he told D’Artagnan once, possibly volunteering the information to the young Gascon because he seemed one of the only ones around him not showing him any rancor or judgment.

“Pay them no mind. They are just as scared as anyone else. They are merely deflecting that scrutiny by taking it out on you.”

Jean wasn’t so sure, but he appreciated the young man’s words. He gravitated towards D’Artagnan, in truth, more for survival than anything else. For the young Gascon was the only one who not only did not show hatred towards him, but what seemed to be genuine kindness.

Capitaine Athos had led his men gallantly at Rocroi, in northern France, against the Spanish. He was awaiting a few of his regiment to return from a close by skirmish when he took inventory of his men and realized that Porthos and D’Artagnan were missing.

At that very moment, Porthos and several other French soldiers were in retreat as some remaining Spanish soldiers ensured they fall back. Their lack of numbers mandated that the best course, as of now, was to withdraw, in an effort to fight another day.

Porthos’ musket was spent, and as he was in retreat, he felt no pressing need at the moment to reload. 

What Porthos did not see- until it was too late- were several Spanish soldiers not behind him, but directly in front of him, by only a few feet. One of them already had his musket raised, pointing directly at Porthos’ head.

Jean had found a ravine and had jumped into it just moments earlier. As he heard the sound of muskets whizzing around him, he no longer wanted to be in the line of fire. He had a perfect vantage point to witness the Spanish soldiers as Porthos approached.

D’Artagnan was too far behind his brother, and had also been in retreat. When he saw what was about to transpire, he stopped to raise his own musket.

D’Artagnan managed to fire and take out the soldier about to end Porthos. As he was still quite a distance away, it was a shot that would have made Aramis very proud.

But then one of the other Spanish soldiers now also had Porthos in his sights.

Porthos glanced at the trench and saw Jean sitting comfortably as if he were on a picnic. 

“Jean! Out of the trench! SHOOT!” Porthos yelled, while at the same time preparing to do what he could to furiously reload. Porthos was essentially yelling at Jean to do what he can to save his life, when in fact Jean should have already been engaging the soldier.

Jean just sat there. He looked terrified, frozen.

Porthos then barely dodged the Spanish soldier’s musket ball. He then finished reloading, took aim and killed the second soldier immediately.

D’artagnan was busy running serpentine to avoid one of the remaining Spanish soldier’s musket hitting him, as well as furiously attempting to re-load himself. As the soldier stopped to point his musket at him, D’Artagnan leaped upon him, and managed to stab him dead with his sword. But it all had rendered him powerless to help Porthos again. It was all happening too fast.

As Jean’s position was hidden from the remaining Spanish soldier, all he had to do was to take the shot- or, at the very least, attempt it- from his vantage point in the trench.

The last Spanish soldier had his musket aimed directly at Porthos. He was not ten feet away.

Suddenly, a musket shell rang out from the side of the Spanish soldier. The French soldier Joseph had killed him, and just in time.

They were now free of any more advancing Spanish troops. Porthos, exhausted, nodded to Joseph in thanks.

D’Artagnan and Porthos embraced once D’artagnan caught up with the larger man.

Then Porthos turned his ire on Jean.

“You- _coward_! You did nothing! You sat there when you should’a been shooting! What do ya have to say for yourself?!!”

Jean said nothing. He stared down at his boots.

D’Artagnan decided to break the awkward silence.

“Let’s get back to the Captain,” is all he said. Standing next to Jean, he threw him a sympathetic look, wondering if he would have been able to muster it if something had actually happened to Porthos.

Porthos ran up to them. Surprisingly, it was D’Artagnan, not Jean, who he addressed.

“Keep him away from me. Otherwise I won’t be responsible for my actions,” Porthos growled, trying very hard not to look directly at Jean.

On the trek back to their base camp, out of earshot of Porthos, Jean seemed to feel the need to come clean to D’Artagnan.

“I don’t know what happened- I froze, I know it,” he admitted. “I suddenly found myself thinking of my wife- how I made a promise to her that I would return safe and sound. How that was suddenly- more important than anything, even saving my comrades. I kept seeing Celeste’s face and- and I suppose I was afraid that if I missed- and I probably would have- then that soldier would have turned his sights on me. Better he not know that I was there at all, is what I thought. I am a coward.”

D’Artagnan chose his words carefully. “Jean. You are due for a furlough, are you not?”

Jean smiled sadly. “Yes. It was to begin tomorrow, in fact. Now- oh! I do not know what will become of me now!”

Finally back at base camp, Athos barely had time to register his relief while doing a quick inventory and seeing all of his soldiers back, including his two dear brothers, seemingly safe and sound, before Porthos went right up to Athos and pointed to Jean.

“THAT one. ‘E froze, he did, and almost got me killed. FROZE and just _sat_ there, all comfortable in his trench!! I was about to be blown away and he did _nothin_ ’!”

“Who?” Athos asked.

D’Artagnan, still standing right next to Jean, quickly uttered “Me. He is referring to me.”

Porthos’ mouth fell open.

“You?” Athos asked.

 _Nonsense,_ Athos thought. D’Artagnan was too brave to put any of his comrades in danger, especially Porthos. He wasn’t buying it. 

D’Artagnan seemed to notice Athos’ reluctance to believe his words, so he continued before Porthos could utter another word.

“A soldier had Porthos in his sights and I was hidden, protected, inside a ravine. I could have given up my position and tried to shoot him, but…suddenly I thought of Constance. I remembered my promise to her that I would- return safe and sound and- I saw her face right in front of me and I- froze…”

D’Artagnan managed to throw Porthos one of those looks they had all cultivated so well throughout the years, wordless glances that signaled so much. This one was a simple _just go with it._

Porthos was rendered mute, housing an incredulous glace at his younger brother.

Jean said nothing.

Athos just stood there, considering D’Artagnan’s words, very carefully.

_The boy’s devotion to his new wife- it’s- could it be-_

“You _coward_ ,” Athos suddenly hissed, slapping D’Artagnan across the face, in front of the entire regiment. “Joseph. Porthos. Escort D’Artagnan to his quarters. Get him- get him away from me.”

Joseph and Porthos did so, away from prying ears. 

Inside the tent, just as Porthos was to ask D’Artagnan what the hell he was playing at, D’Artagnan said, “Jean is on furlough starting tomorrow. He will not be able to cause anyone else to come to any harm. He is- not a soldier. Once he is safely out of here and away from Athos’ wrath, perhaps then we can all come clean on what occurred. You saw how angry Athos is right now. Let him cool and-”

“So you would allow Athos- and every other soldier- to think you a coward rather than let Jean get what’s coming to him?” Joseph asked.

“What is the alternative? Jean would at the very least be denied his furlough, and at worst be punished for being unable to perform a duty he was never meant to execute. 

“Porthos, you know- we are soldiers. But not every man can do this. Some should never be asked to do so.

"This way, I know Athos can be talked into working it that Jean’s furlough becomes permanent. He is a tailor, for God sakes. Let him be a tailor again. Porthos, Joseph- Who is well served by punishing Jean?”

Porthos and Joseph were deflated. D’Artagnan was putting his reputation behind Jean’s acquittal of this cowardly affair. 

“You _hope_ that Athos can be talked into it.” D’Artagnan just shrugged. “Alright, but on one condition. You come clean to Athos the minute Jean is out ‘a here,” Porthos commanded D’Artagnan.

“You have a deal.”

They left D’Artagnan alone. He instinctively brushed his hand across the cheek that Athos had slapped. He realized that not only could he still feel it on his face, but also deep in his soul. 


	2. Chapter 2

The next day came with the announcement that all furloughs were postponed. It seems as if the rout the day before mandated that Rocroi be defended by all, no exceptions.

D’Artagnan, still confined to his quarters, could not help but notice the looks that many of his fellow soldiers had thrown him since his incarceration. Some were confused looks- D’Artagnan had shown nothing but extreme heroism up to this point, after all- so why the cowardly turn yesterday? None of them had witnessed what had occurred, but why would anyone willingly admit to cowardice, unless they were truly guilty of it?

Others had no problem in openly demonstrating their derision. The food rations he was provided were- obviously tainted; vulgar comments were made about ‘Athos’ pet’ and how now he was laid bare as the coward that he was; and so on.

Once word reached everyone about the deferred furloughs, Porthos confronted D’Artagnan right away.

“Alright, deal’s off,” he yelled. “Jean’s furlough is revoked. Tell Athos what happened. _Now.”_

“His furlough-“

“No one gets furlough now. The order jus’ came down. Now you know the deal- we can’t allow Jean to put anyone else in danger. So you’re tellin’ Athos now.”

That had been the deal. If Jean returned to the field, and again put another soldier at risk, that was something that D’Artagnan could not live with.

Just then, Joseph popped into the tent where D’Artagnan was being held.

“Captain Athos just gave the order- we are all set to deploy immediately.”

D’Artagnan instinctively moved forward.

“Not you, D’Artagnan. You are still under…arrest.”

Porthos looked at D’Artagnan. “I’ll tell Athos.”

“One more thing,” Joseph said. “Jean is gone.”

“Gone?” D’Artagnan and Porthos asked, almost simultaneously.

“He- probably deserted. The moment he heard his furlough was not coming, he looked as if he was going to be sick. A few minutes later, he was nowhere to be found. I think he fled.”

Porthos’ anger bubbled to the surface.

“He’s a double coward! He is a deserter, a coward, and he leaves D’Artagnan to take the blame for his own yellow-bellied worthlessness!” He looked at D’Artagnan accusingly. “And _this_ is the man who you want to protect?!?”

D’Artagnan did not know what to say.

Were it not for the flurry of activity making it to the battlefield to once again try to engage with the Spanish, Porthos would have sought out Athos to set the record straight about D’Artagnan. But Jean’s desertion was a topic deferred until the battle was fought and, hopefully, won. 

As it was, they had their hands full, as the Spanish were putting up a formidable battle. Cannons and muskets were deployed on both sides, wreaking havoc. However, as opposed to the previous day’s rout, the tide began to turn, and Athos’ troops made good headway against the Spanish. They were victorious this day, even taking a few Spanish as prisoners.

They were now all their way back to camp. Athos hadn’t even been informed yet about Jean’s absence from their regiment. 

It was on their return to camp that Porthos finally found his way back to his Captain. 

“Athos,” Porthos called urgently. “There’s somethin’ you need to know about D’Artagnan.”

But Athos wasn’t listening. For suddenly, standing right in front of him was none other than Colonel Pierre Daval. 

Daval was a decorated Colonel, feared but well respected amongst the French troops as a tough but brave commander who showed a keen genius for military command.

“Captain Athos. Report.”

“Colonel. The Spanish factions formerly holding the outskirts of Rocroi, are no more. We also managed to disengage their cannons at Taillette.”

“Superb news. Another attack and the town can once again be ours.”

Porthos patiently waited his turn to talk to Athos as the Colonel and his brother continued to strategize. 

While waiting, he decided to check in on his foolish, all-too generous and naïve younger brother.

When he did so, the scene he interrupted made his blood boil.

Two soldiers had D’Artagnan in a headlock. A third was concentrating on doing something to D’Artagnan’s chest- he could not see what.

“Cowards should be branded as such. Raymond, do a good job of it,” the corporal that Porthos recognized as Michel said.

‘If you would hold him still, I would,” Raymond replied. “Six letters is a lot to-“

Just then, Porthos grabbed him by the head and threw him back.

He didn’t have time to yet register the small knife that Raymond has begun to carve the word ‘coward’ into D’Artagnan’s torso.

He was too busy boxing the ears of both Michel and his partner in crime, another corporal named Louis.

Both men staggered and fell; when Raymond attempted to engage Porthos, he stopped dead as he stood face to face with the giant.

It was one thing to have the stupidity to challenge Porthos on a good day. But to see the rage currently on the large man’s face, gave Raymond pause.

D’Artagnan was collecting himself, on his knees and still gasping at the pain inflicted by Raymond. Luckily for him, the man hadn’t had too much of a chance to brand him significantly. The result looked more like a bloody half- circle, nothing more.

Gaining back some of his senses, Michel shouted at Porthos: “So you would associate with a coward, would you? Protect your little _brother_ , his cowardice be damned?”

“It was _Jean,_ you imbecile! D’Artagnan was coverin’ for ‘em,” Porthos yelled back.

That silenced the three men. “Is- is that true?” Raymond asked D’Artagnan.

D’Artagnan simply glared at Raymond.

“Does D’Artagnan hesitating sound anythin’ like the man you’ve seen in combat already?!” Porthos shouted.

No response from the three men was their answer.

Porthos turned to his younger brother. ”Jean deserted, D’Artagnan. No one to protect anymore. ‘E dug ‘is own grave.”

Now it did make sense to the men. They could no longer ignore the nagging feeling that Porthos had to be telling the truth. Adding it all up, D’Artagnan was never anything less than decisive and brave in any skirmish; Jean, on the other hand, had made them all a bit nervous to be around, what with his own anxious demeanor always giving them pause.

Louis had already begun to wipe D’Artagnan’s wound clean while managing to squeak out an “I’m sorry”. The other two men seemed to be taking Louis’ lead and helping clean him up.

Porthos was still furious at the men, but his anger cooled when he saw D’Artagnan emit a small but tired smile at the men who a minute earlier, had attacked him.

_This pup’s got an amazing, big, forgiving heart,_ he thought.

He then proceeded to help patch his baby brother up as well.

Back in the camp, Colonel Daval and Captain Athos had pulled out some wine and were celebrating the events of the day.

“I hear you have a coward in custody,” Daval mentioned.

“Charles D’Artagnan,” Athos said. He immediately, for some reason, regretted saying his name out loud to the Colonel. The boy’s name and ‘coward’ were terms used together that he still could not easily reconcile. “He- froze when a Spanish soldier was about to shoot one of ours. That was two days ago. He has been in his quarters ever since.”

“Splendid. Sometimes these things present themselves as serendipitous opportunities.”

‘How so?” Athos asked.

“Tomorrow, we will execute this coward D’Artagnan, as an example to the other men.”


	3. Chapter 3

Athos almost gasped audibly. He contained himself enough to ask, as calmly as he could, “Surely that is an extreme example to set?”

“Capitain. This- offender is in custody, correct? And no doubt most of the regiment knows it- word spreads quickly with something like an act of cowardice. Almost as certain are the inevitable rumors as to what his punishment will be. We must ensure that the answer to such questions is that the most extreme punition is the only viable option for cowardice. That will remove all doubt in the minds of the men that such behavior is not only to not be tolerated, but the punishment will be swift and brutal.”

“But this regiment has proven that they are all brave, to a man; yesterday’s triumph is a perfect example of-“

“Capitain. Do you doubt that cowardice is the worst of cancers that needs to be dealt with immediately, lest it spread?”

“Of course not, but-“

“And do you also doubt that if a cowardly soldier gets to sit in his quarters while his comrades go off to bravely fight in battle, that does not fester in the hearts of the men? You say he was in his quarters since yesterday? I can only imagine what your men thought of this- The coward Charles D’Artagnan yesterday, sitting comfortably in his quarters while his comrades fought and bled. All the more reason that we act swiftly.”

Athos was finding it hard to focus- he was losing this argument as the Colonel stated his case calmly, simply, and compellingly. There was also an air of finality to his pronouncement that intimidated even Athos- the subject seemed closed, no further arguments to be considered.

“Pass the word immediately- Charles D’Artagnan is to be shot until dead at noon tomorrow. That will calm down the brave lads who have no doubt harbored ill will towards the coward, and remove any doubts in the hearts of any soldier who may feel that cowardice is a trait to be tolerated by simply languishing in a tent.”

With that, Colonel retired to the makeshift quarters created once he arrived.

Athos just stood there after saluting the Colonel, feeling incredibly impotent.

Initially, when D’Artagnan had admitted what he had done, he did not believe it. But once he mentioned his wife, the boy’s explanation made it more understandable (many soldiers had wives back home who they adored), but it was no less forgivable a crime. Your fellow soldiers are the men to whom you pledge your life- it cannot be any other way on the battlefield.

Athos felt adrift. His love for D’Artagnan had always been unconditional, and that was because everything about the boy commanded respect, and love. Even his faults- impetuousness, quick to anger, no sense of self-preservation- were admirable in that his anger was generally set off by injustice towards his fellow man.

Now, Athos’ admiration of the boy was undoubtedly tainted. And if he had indeed let Porthos come to harm- he could have been _killed_ \- then he tried to banish the thought of ever being able to forgive him.

What a mess.

While stuck in his quiet, unsettled reverie, Porthos arrived.

“Athos.” In times of extreme stress, Porthos found it hard not to address his brother by his name, as opposed to his rank.

“D’Artagnan. ‘E didn’t do it.”

“Do what?”

“’E ain’t the coward. It was Jean. Who, by the way, is in the wind.”

“What are you _talking_ about, Porthos?!”

“Jean was sitting hidden away in a ravine, staring at the soldier who was about to shoot me. D’Artagnan was nowhere near us.” Porthos, in the confusion of the melee, was still unaware that it was D’Artagnan that had shot one of the soldiers while he was behind him.

Athos was still processing what Porthos was telling him. Porthos continued, “I yelled at Jean to shoot and he just _sat_ there, looking terrified. I was out of ammo and finally, Joseph took ‘em out. If it weren’t for ‘im, I’d be dead now, for sure.”

“So why did D’Artagnan take the blame?!”

“Jean was set to go on leave today, remember? D’Artagnan thought if he could go, then he could explain to you what happened, after he was away from any extreme reprisals.”

  
“And why did he feel that Jean would not be deserving of any ‘reprisals’ stemming from his dereliction of his duties?”

Porthos just shook his head. “Because D’Artagnan’s a naïve, soft young fool who decided for himself that someone like Jean should never be a soldier in the first place. So he shouldn’t be punished for failing to act like one. And if ‘e were removed from the battlefield, he would be safe, and safe from puttin’ any other solder in danger. Such is the warped way our young idiot pup thinks.”

Athos was simultaneously infuriated and proud of his protégé- how dare he take it upon himself what punishment his soldier should be subject to? At the same time, however, wasn’t it just like him to see one of the many the injustices that manifest themselves at times like this- the roundup of men from all walks of life, into the horrors of war?

“And you say- Jean is nowhere to be found?”

“Joseph said that he looked terrified once word was received that all furloughs were deferred. Soon after, no one could find ‘em.”

“And I am learning of this just _now_?!!”

“As soon as I found out about Jean, we were off to battle! I didn’t even get close to ya until after the fightin’ was done,” Porthos yelled back.

Athos just shook his head, exasperated. Not looking directly at Porthos, he said “D’Artagnan is to be shot tomorrow. As a coward. As an example to the men.”

“WHAT?!?!” Porthos exclaimed. You can’t!”

“Colonel Daval’s orders.”

“It was Jean…”

“Of course I’ll tell the Colonel, Porthos. Take a deep breath. This will get sorted, I assure you. Now I will have words with our infuriating pup.”

“Please do, as some of the men were busy carving ‘em up,” Porthos said.

Athos’ stare prompted Porthos to explain. “They were carvin’ the word ‘coward’ into his chest. I stopped ‘em.”

Athos was at the end of his rope. “Serves him right. You should have instructed them to carve in ‘incorrigible’ instead. More accurate, and more letters.”

Porthos and Athos both smiled at that.

They both went into the tent where D’Artagnan was being held.

As they entered, D’Artagnan rose from the chair he was sitting in immediately.

“Captain,” he said.

“Don’t ‘Captain’ me, you fool,” Athos replied.

“I told ‘im everythin’,” Porthos said.

D’Artagnan looked meekly at Athos, unsure as to what his reaction would be.

“You cannot save everyone, D’Artagnan. Trying to do so puts you at risk. Do you know that Colonel Daval wants to shoot you tomorrow? To discourage cowardice in the ranks?”

D’Artagnan’s brown eyes shot open wider than Athos could ever recall. But I- I-“

“Don’t worry, D’Artagnan. I will explain to the Colonel what truly transpired.”

“But Athos- are you certain that Jean is gone? I couldn’t bear to see him shot, even if he did...fail in his duties.”

“I will initiate a search for him as soon as possible. D’Artagnan, I cannot simply allow men to go absent without leave and allow them to think their actions have no consequences. Not even trying gives everyone license to try it for themselves.”

“But then if he is found, he will be shot in my stead!” D’Artagnan shouted.

Athos paused. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. Exonerating D’Artagnan was first and foremost on his mind.

Athos’ anger grew. “D’Artagnan! You are a soldier; it is not your job to think, or do anything other than _following orders._ It is also not your choice to determine what punishment is to be doled out when an order is ignored, when a soldier demonstrates he is a coward, or when he is guilty of desertion! In fact, it takes a special type of arrogance on your part to believe that it is up to you to determine the fate of a fellow soldier who puts his fellow soldiers at risk.

“Now stop this nonsense right now! You and I will both live with whatever Colonel Daval determines is a sufficient punishment for Jean’s _considerable_ crimes!”

“Athos-“ D’Artagnan pleaded.

“ _Captain_ to you, soldier; sometimes you both forget your place. We are at war, do have a care and remember that,” Athos spat, shooting a look at both of his brothers. Then, addressing D’Artagnan specifically, he said “After all you have seen, D’Artagnan, you still cannot be as naïve as to think that in times of war, fairness and justice always manage to win the day.”

As he walked out delivering those harsh words, Athos recognized their hypocrisy. He, in truth, would move heaven and earth if D’Artagnan could be allowed to forever hold onto his idealistic world view. As soon as war was declared, his utmost fear- along with losing a single man in his regiment- was being unable to protect not only D’Artagnan’s very life, but also the good and noble ideals that he knew the boy clinged to, that made him who he was. With every piece of innocence that the war insisted D’Artagnan abandon, Athos lost a bit of his heart and soul. 

After Athos ordered a search party for Jean, he asked permission to enter Colonel Laval’s quarters.

“Come.”

“Colonel.”

“Captain?”

“I have obtained further information about what occurred yesterday, prompting the soldier D’Artagnan’s arrest. It seems that he was covering for a fellow soldier. One who D’Artagnan had befriended.”

“And this other soldier still walks among us, not incarcerated himself?”

“He- Jean- apparently deserted us this morning. I have a team looking for him now, to return him to the camp.”

“A coward, deserter, and a coward sympathizer? Were it not for the exemplary showing of your men today, I may have a question or two regarding what sort of regiment you have running here, Capitain,” the Colonel spat, suddenly incensed.

“Yes Colonel,” was all Athos could think to reply.

“Find this man, Athos. For by God’s sake, I will shoot either one or two men tomorrow.”

Athos paused. “And by that you mean-?”

“This Jean will be found and shot, do you understand? And we cannot tolerate cowardice sympathizers. D’Artagnan will stand alongside Jean, and be shot as well.”

“Colonel! I must strongly object. D’Artagnan has shown nothing but great bravery on every campaign that he had taken part of. He is well respected by the other men. Shooting him would have the opposite effect that you intend-“

“Captain! Not that I owe you any explanation, but my decision is final. For all you know, your man may have played a part in Jean escaping. After all, if he went as far as taking the blame for this yellow-bellied coward’s actions, how much of a leap in logic would it take to imagine he also aided in his escape?”

“I assure you, Colonel, he did not. Running is anathema to D’Artagnan. He is a brave soldier and could not have aided in Jean’s escape, I swear it. He was in his tent under house arrest and would never do anything to disobey.”

“In any case, Captain, he aided and abetted a known coward from coming to justice. Find Jean, Captain. I _will_ have my executions tomorrow, come hell or high water. Good night.”

Athos left the Colonel’s quarters. He had a knot in his stomach burrowing its way into his very being. Was D’Artagnan’s good heart, ultimately to be his very undoing?


	4. Chapter 4

There was no engaging the enemy the next day, so efforts were doubled to find Jean. In truth, based on the surrounding terrain, he could not have gotten too far, especially since by all accounts he went on foot.

Athos was torn between sharing the Colonel’s decision with anyone, especially D’Artagnan himself. When he informed Porthos that the Colonel was unwavering in his decision to also have D’Artagnan shot, the large Musketeer threw an angry fit that would have scared Athos had he not seen his brother in similar despair before. 

Unfortunately, as Colonel Daval’s intention seemed to be to socialize what was to occur to every soldier, in an effort to ram home the message against cowardice and its ramifications, everyone was to be told as soon as possible that there would be one, perhaps two executions that day.

That the Colonel had made such a rash decision without checking with Army General Claude Bernard was of no surprise to Athos; while the Colonel was considered tough and demanding, just the thought of the General sent shivers down Athos’ spine- he brokered no compromise, and in fact had in the past done exactly what Colonel Daval had just done- ordered the execution of French officers accused of cowardice. In the Army General’s mind, nothing was more reprehensible than disrespecting the sanctity of French honor by showing cowardice. Daval knew he would have the General’s blessing in what he had ordered. 

Athos had to think of a delay strategy. The men, according to the Colonel, would be executed side by side, to make an example. But in order to do that, they had to find Jean first. He would plead that the executions can be made known to the men right away, but they should be carried out only once Jean was apprehended and brought back to the camp.

Colonel Daval was amenable to the idea.

“But as we have agreed, gather your men now to inform them of the executions, Captain. We will alert those currently in the hunt for Jean when they return, hopefully with their quarry. Inform them that once Jean is captured, he and D’Artagnan are to be executed. Dismissed.”

_One step at a time,_ Athos thought, excusing himself.

Athos realized that D’Artagnan was owed the courtesy of finding out his fate before the rest of the regiment. Porthos was with the search team for Jean.

“D’Artagnan,” Athos said, almost choking on the word.

“What happened?” The boy asked, seeing how upset that his mentor seemed.

“Jean will be executed, D’Artagnan. Colonel Daval’s orders. And-“  
  
”Did you find him?”

“No, but we will. We have our best trackers out there. He is on foot, and there are no other towns between here and-“

“Athos! You cannot allow this! It’s not _right_! It’s-“

Athos grabbed D’Artagnan, and shook him violently. As if by simply doing so would shake him free of his pure, naïve leanings, having them fall away and replaced with the sobering comprehension of how the world really worked.

“YOU ARE TO BE SHOT AS WELL! AS A SYMPATHISER AND ADVOCATE OF A COWARD! AND THERE IS NOTHING THAT I CAN DO ABOUT IT! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!!”

D’Artagnan looked at his mentor in shock.

“I’m- still to be executed as well?”

“YES! Do I have your attention _now_? For your hiding another’s cowardly act and preventing him from taking his own punishment. Colonel Daval is adamant. I’m to announce it to the troops immediately.”

Athos’ temper cooled a bit when he saw how his words were sinking in. D’Artagnan stood there, clearly in shock.

“I will continue to attempt to talk the Colonel down from executing you. However my prospects of success are minimal, and I needed you to know. The Colonel is- adamant.”

D’Artagnan nodded and found enough of his voice to croak, ‘Whatever clemency that he can show us…”

Athos made to leave. _Us?_ This young man’s naiveté was going to be the death of him- he was still holding out hope for Jean as well as himself.

“Captain...” D’Artagnan’s voice cracked. Athos looked back at his younger brother.

“Athos. I’m- frightened.” The pleading look in those two large brown eyes was almost more than Athos could bear.

Athos’ throat constricted. He had no words.

“You will fight for us?”

Athos gave the meekest of nods, and exited the tent.

Once the regiment was all gathered, Athos announced: “Men. Upon the return of Jean Couture to the camp, he will be executed for cowardice in the face of the enemy, putting a fellow soldier at risk, and desertion.”

Murmurs streamed through out the regiment. Colonel Daval seemed pleased with the response.

Athos cleared his throat.

“And for his part in covering for corporal Couture, Charles D’Artagnan will also be shot.”

Audible gasps sprang out and, after a moment passed allowing the message to sink in, a few shouts of ‘NO!’ could also be heard.

“That is all.”

The crowd, now all riled up, began to disperse. 

Porthos went to D’Artagnan.

“Get up.”

“Why?”

“You’re getting’ outa here. Now.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re escapin’, you’re _escapin’_ , and right now.” Porthos looked desperate, almost in a panic. His insistence on D’Artagnan taking flight was as if the tent was on fire.

“Porthos! What are you talking about?”

“Shhh….keep your- you gotta run. You know the Colonel’s shootin’ ya with Jean once he is captured. So ya gotta get outa here right now. Maybe follow in the same direction that Jean took. They haven’t found ‘im yet, so maybe he-“

“Porthos. I’m not going anywhere.”

Porthos glanced at his younger brother. “Ya- ya gotta, pup. They’ll shoot ya! We- I can’t let that happen!”

D’Artagnan wore a tired smile. “Porthos. If I run, then I _am_ a coward.”

“No, you’d just be escapin' an unjust shooting! Ya didn’t _do_ it!”

“I know, but the Colonel knows the facts now, and has still decided that given what I did, I- need to pay for it. I cannot countermand that decision by running.”

Porthos’ anger boiled over. “They’ll tell how you were a coward. That’ll be your legacy. Even if we know different, it will be a dishonorable stain on your whole career- shot for cowardice, or just for _harborin’_ a coward! Is that the way you wanna be remembered? And what about Constance then? There ain’t no pensions for widows of cowards, didja know that? Think about THAT! A coward’s widow, is how she’ll have to go through the rest of ‘er life! And what will she say when I tell ‘er that I gave you an out, and you _refused_ it? Because trust me, I WILL! Are ya ready to go through eternity knowing that your wife will hate you for the rest of her life!?!?”

D’Artagnan blanched at that.

After a spell, D’Artagnan just said, “Then- that’s the way it will be.”

Porthos looked deflated.

“And Porthos,” D’Artagnan said, a wistful smile on his face. “You would never tell her about me refusing your offer.”

That did it. Porthos whispered between a sob, “No. Of course I wouldn’t.”

Porthos grabbed D’Artagnan in a tight embrace.

“I should’a never agreed to go along with this. I should’a called Jean out right away. You wouldn’t be in this mess if I didn’t listen to ya,” he said, now openly weeping.

“It’s not your fault. This is all on me,” D’Artagnan said, patting his bigger older brother on the back. 

“Please, D’Art… _please_ go...”

Porthos had heard D’Artagnan’s reason for not going. It infuriated him, knowing he had no remaining arguments to present, so his pleas were all he had left.

“Please? For me?”

D’Artagnan extracted himself from his big brother’s hug, stepped back, and then managed to shoot Porthos the most resigned smile he could on his face. Then he simply sat back down in his chair.

Athos noticed that Daval, for his part, did not fester in his quarters, but ingratiated himself with the other men, of all ranks. He took the time to talk to many of them. 

He then visited the prisoner D’Artagnan, this…cowardice sympathizer his fellow comrades had told him so much about, based on the informal conversations he was having.

D’Artagnan, who had been sitting, immediately recognized the uniform and commanding presence of someone who he immediately had to assume was Colonel Daval. He jumped to his feet.

“Colonel,” D’Artagnan said.

“At ease, soldier. Take a seat.” D’Artagnan did so.

“So, as your Captain has undoubtedly told you, you are to be shot tomorrow for both impersonating and protecting a fellow soldier who demonstrated the unforgivable crime of cowardice. How do you plead, soldier?”

D’Artagnan was startled by the question. Was this a trial? Wasn’t he to be shot in any case?

Without too much hesitation, D’Artagnan replied, “I am guilty, Colonel.”

The Colonel peered at D’Artagnan sharply, a small smile creeping up on his lips.

“Tell me, Charles- why would you act in such a manner? Why allow a soldier, who almost caused the death of one of his comrades, to not pay for his crime?” 

“Permission to speak openly, Colonel.”

The Colonel almost emitted a chuckle. “Your life is already forfeit, young man. You have nothing more to lose by doing so.”

"The war has called many men into conscription. From all walks of life. With all sorts of beliefs, experiences, not to mention constitutions. It is inevitable, is it not, that for some of those men swept up into service, those very things- their beliefs, experiences, and constitutions will run contrary to what it takes to make a good soldier?”

“It matters not. They all swore an oath-“

“Does swearing an oath change what is in some men’s hearts, their minds, their souls?”

That D’Artagnan had the audacity to interrupt the Colonel was something that Daval ignored, to his credit. “Can repeating some words- strong, worthy words, no doubt- instill a sense of bravery, of loyalty in a man, when it may not already exist?

“Colonel. In Jean Couture I see a genuinely good man, a tailor, and a devoted husband, but I fail to understand why he deserves to be executed because bravery on the battlefield just happens to be one aspect of his character that he lacks. He had been scheduled to take leave the other day, which would have in effect removed him from the rigors and dangers of the battlefield, and with it, any possibility that he could cause further harm to his fellow soldiers. My plan was to take the blame for him until his leave was in place. Then I planned on telling Ath- my Captain what had really transpired in an effort to get him to give Jean a permanent discharge- dishonorable or otherwise. That plan, of course, went by the wayside once all furloughs were revoked.”

Daval was impressed. This was an articulate young man who felt strongly about what he spoke.

“You know, soldier, my interviews with your fellow soldiers revealed- after I convinced the soldiers to be honest, that is- a deep respect for you as a soldier. Brave, loyal, devoted to the mission and the regiment. I can also now see for myself that you are a young man of considerable passion and intellect.

“I am rescinding your execution. However, the soldier Jean Couture will still be shot until dead.”

As Daval made to leave, D’Artagnan shot up from his seat. “Please- PLEASE, Colonel. Show clemency to Jean. He is not a soldier- a discharge, Colonel, _please_ \- just grant him his furlough like he was- “

“SILENCE! My decision is FINAL! You dare dictate to me how to proceed? I expect I am doing the man a favor- for living with what he almost caused would in all probability be too much for him to countenance. Better to die with a bit of dignity by taking responsibility for his actions than to live a coward.”

And with those words, D’Artagnan knew that Jean was lost. For of course Jean would be able to live with what he had done- his fidelity was to his wife, not some strangers he found himself temporarily fighting alongside on the battlefield. Colonel Daval’s pronouncement proved that he was the type of man who saw no middle ground, not any sympathy, for anyone not a soldier at heart. And Daval aspired to make an example of Jean Couture, demonstrating that cowardice was a trait no other soldier should ever entertain.

D’Artagnan’s only hope was that Jean had successfully made his escape.


	5. Chapter 5

D’Artagnan’s hope was not to be.

Jean Couture was brought back to the camp, hands tied behind him, looking tired and terrified.

Perhaps the tone of the regiment’s reaction was tempered by the fact that the now knew the wretched man’s fate. There were no jeers, no ridicule bestowed upon the man. Many of the men simply looked away, and some leered with derision, some with sympathy.

Soon after his return, Colonel Daval made it clear to Athos that the execution was to be carried out immediately.

“Your soldier D’Artagnan is to be spared. By all accounts from his fellow soldiers, as well as my own impression of the young man, he is a brave and loyal soldier. He is also no longer to be held- he is to rejoin his comrades on the battlefield, effective immediately. And I want him out of his tent- he should witness this, if for no other reason than to see what occurs when cowardice festers it ugly head. For as brave as this D’Artagnan might be, he needs to shed his sentimentality and the soft side of his demeanor. There is no place for it on the battlefield.” 

It was the first time that Colonel Daval had made known his decision reversal about D’Artagnan. Having the boy witness the execution seemed a small price to pay for him keeping his life. Athos let out a breath of relief. In war you needed to learn to embrace the small favors. Often, they were all you got.

On the other hand, Athos knew his young protégé enough to know that what the Colonel expected to come out of D’Artagnan witnessing Jean’s execution was misguided. For instead of cooling D’Artagnan to men such as Jean, bearing witness to his execution would only scar the boy’s heart just a little, leaving him struggling to grasp the justice in the killing of a benign, meek man, one hardly worthy of execution. 

However, all Athos offered his Colonel was “Of course, Colonel.” Any refuting the man’s words was, he knew, futile.

And so it was that with little preamble, all of the soldiers were made to assemble in front of a firing squad. Jean had been blindfolded and was whimpering, and pleading for mercy.

Colonel Daval simply announced to the troops, “For extreme cowardice in the face of the enemy, and for failing to act in order to save a fellow soldier, Corporal Jean Couture will be shot until dead.”

The Colonel saw no reason to verbalize his rescinding of the order to also shoot D’Artagnan to the men.

Athos had made a point of standing next to D’Artagnan, who looked positively despondent.

Colonel Daval, on the other hand, looked disgusted, as Jean’s sniveling whines and cries persisted. It only confirmed he had made the right decision to have this waste of a soldier shot.

“Can you not stop this?” D’Artagnan asked, his voice choking on his own words.

“No. I cannot.” Athos saw no reason to lie to the boy, or give hope where none existed.

“P-please. Please stop this,” D’Artagnan wept. As he watched the tragic scene in front of him, he instinctively grabbed Athos’ hand and gripped it tightly.

Athos swallowed down his frustration at D’Artagnan’s unwavering belief in him, that he could accomplish anything if he put his mind to it. The boy’s relentless naiveté will be the death of him. 

But suddenly the manner in which the boy grasped his hand reminded him of when his younger brother Thomas would grab his hand when something frightened or upset him, and there were no words adequate enough to calm him.

As those memories came flooding back to Athos, he found himself unconsciously squeezing his younger brother’s hand even tighter.

So as frustrated as he was by the entire situation, he did _not_ let go of his protégé’s hand. It was all he could offer. It had to be enough.

The soldiers lined up tailor, and reluctant soldier, Jean Couture, in their sights.

D’Artagnan then felt himself moving towards Jean. Athos pulled him back by the hand the boy was holding on to for dear life.

“Athos. _Please.”_

Shots rang out. Jean Couture fell, dead.

D’Artagnan fell to his knees.

Colonel Daval looked over at D’Artagnan. He immediately thought less of the boy; if he could not comprehend the value of a lesson against cowardice, how strong a soldier could he really be? Shameful.

Athos, on the other hand, immediately felt guilt at his misdirected anger at D’Artagnan. It was a reminder of the boy’s youth, his tenacious hold on justice and virtue. Athos had always feared that the war and all of its horror, arbitrary death, and injustice, would bring harm to D’Artagnan- if not by ending his life outright, for certain, by breaking his heart irreparably. 

Once they were formally dismissed, D’Artagnan slithered away to his tent.

Colonel Daval left the regiment the next morning. More pressing matters elsewhere on the front mandated that he depart. The battle to take Rocroi back, led by Athos, in the meantime, would commence shortly.

As the troops prepared for battle, Athos caught sight of D’Artagnan from the corner of his eye. 

He had meant to stop by the prior evening to console the boy, he really did, but one last evening in the Colonel’s company, outlining the strategy for today’s assault, prevented it from being so. 

Athos gave his younger brother a quick nod. D’Artagnan returned the same.

It may have been a trick of the French sun, but it seemed for a moment that the light in D’Artagnan’s eyes shone a bit dimmer than it had just a day before. And the boy’s nod also confirmed that he did not blame Athos for what had transpired yesterday. He was beginning to understand how the world worked. Athos found that revelation not just a little tragic.

All that Athos could hope for was that the armor of hardness that had slowly wrapped its way around the young man’s heart could at least protect him from the savagery the world offered up. If his innocence was the casualty of it all, let his life be spared, and the people inhabiting it- starting with his wife, and of course his older brothers- will be there to help him pick up the pieces.


End file.
